


Domestic peace

by orphan_account



Category: Frederica - Georgette Heyer
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Somehow, Frederica thinks that domestic peace will only be the start of their shared happiness. While peace proves elusive, there are distinct benefits to the louder, and more boisterous, aspects of marital happiness.





	Domestic peace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaisyNinjaGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyNinjaGirl/gifts).



For once, Frederica had little inclination to think of practical matters. Having discovered that being cross, and not quite comfortable without Alverstoke were, in fact, clear signs of being in love, she was further discovering that she liked the feel of his strong arms around her, and the way his kisses left her breathless. 

"My dear, when can we be married?" she asked, as he pulled back at last. Alverstoke gave a laugh and kissed her once again.

"What an unseemly question," he said. "Do they know nothing of the proper forms in the wilds of Hertfordshire?"

Frederica shook her head and met his laughing eyes. Of course he was quizzing her; the particular teasing glint in his eyes was familiar, even as the closeness of his body was still strange. Daringly, she slid her hands up her arms and around his neck. She bit her lip as the movement brought her breasts into firmer contact with his chest, and she discovered that she liked the sensation. So, it seemed, did Alverstoke. Whatever answer she would have made was lost under the renewed pressure of his mouth.

Her lips opened under his, letting his tongue invade her mouth, and it felt natural to let the kiss deepen. His hand slid up her back, making her press closer and shiver, and she revelled in these unfamiliar sensations. 

He pulled back once more, and she was fascinated to see the flush creeping along his cheekbones and the darkness of his eyes. His expression was unfamiliar, but she liked the intensity of his gaze, like she was the most important thing in the world. She felt her own cheeks heating, but it wasn't with embarrassment. She had only the faintest idea of what happened in the marriage bed, but, if it was like this, then she was sure it couldn't possibly be as unpleasant as Aunt Seraphina's vague muttered warnings. Thinking of a few of them threatened to make her giggle unexpectedly.

"First you ask about when we can marry, and now you laugh!" said Alverstoke. "I feel that I should officially ask for your hand, and you should formally accept, before we find any more inappropriate ways for you to behave."

"I was just thinking of what Aunt Seraphina always said about men," confessed Frederica.

"Worse and worse," said Alverstoke. "Will you think me an intolerable coxcomb, full of groundless self-satisfaction and impertinence, if I tell you that I love you, and ask you, again, to marry me?"

"Even Aunt Seraphina said you at least talked like a man of sense," said Frederica, "so I feel that I should accept your extremely obliging offer. Not least because your secretary, two of your sisters and two of your oldest friends seem to expect it, and I couldn't expose you to their disappointment."

"I daresay Miss Winsham had many things to say about the fragility of the male ego, so I must thank you for thinking of it and preserving me." He squeezed her close one more time, kissing her lips softly in counterpoint to the hard pressure of his arms. Drawing her down on the sofa next to him, he took her hand. 

Frederica had never considered being married, or engaged, and had no clear idea of what should happen now. Should Charis have contracted an engagement, the rules would have been clear, but Frederica was not a young girl, and also had no desire for the protracted civilities of a large wedding. It would even, perhaps, be inappropriate at this moment. She repeated her original question.

"At risk of being stigmatised as a green girl again, I must still ask when we may be married. Do you think, perhaps, that it could be soon?"

Alverstoke pressed a kiss to her palm. "I would very much like to marry you soon," he said, "but I don't wish you to miss out on any of the things women want from their wedding day."

Frederica was touched by the fact that he would even think of such things, but she felt no desire for dinners and bustle and flowers. She might have, once, when she was younger and romantic, but her life had been practical for so long that she wouldn't know what to do with all the fuss of a large wedding. When she thought of being married to Alverstoke, which should have been a shocking and novel thought, what she actually saw was the day to day comfort and joy of being together. She wanted the closeness, the partnership, that Alverstoke promised, of a life built together. 

"I would assume all women want a husband for their wedding day," Frederica said, "and that is really all I need."

"Then we shall be married as swiftly as you like," Alverstoke said, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her wrist. "Perhaps at that delightful church - St Clement Danes, wasn't it - that Charles liked so much."

Frederica had to laugh at the thought of them descending on the church with a special license so soon after the last encounter. "I doubt Mr Trevor smoothed the curate down enough for _that_ ," she said. "Particularly if he should recognise Harry handing down another of his sisters from a hack!"

Alverstoke laughed too, and it seemed to Frederica that nothing much had changed between them. Alverstoke was still so quick to understand her, to share the small absurdities of the world, and she'd come to realise that there was a warmth of a certain kind in his heart, difficult though it was to see at first. Looking up, she met his eyes and realised that there was one large change in their relationship, one that she wanted to explore more. 

She licked her lips, and watched him follow the movement. She wasn't sure how to kiss him again, but he tugged gently and she leaned into him, tilting up her chin and opening her lips under his. He rested his fingers on her throat for a tender moment, before sliding around to cup the back of her neck. Eager to explore his body as well, Frederica let one of her hands rest on his knee, enjoying the warmth of his skin and muscle through the thin fabric.

Her breath came a little quicker and her fingers tightened on his leg. She gasped as his free hand slid up her side, fingers brushing over her breast. The sensation was unexpected, but delightful, and she daringly let her hand slide up his thigh a little further. She felt a sweet ache, a kind of anticipation, like heat in her belly. They kissed for long moments more, before Alverstoke eased back, lifting her hand from his thigh and pressing a final small row of kisses up her wrist, something that reminded her of the time he had kissed her hand, and she wondered if, even then, she'd been hoping to end up here. 

 

"I think marriage will suit me well," she said. 

"I certainly intend on that outcome," said Alverstoke. "Despite what Miss Winsham might have told you of the horrors of patriarchal tyranny, I have no intention of withholding pin money, or coming the ugly about the availability of turbot, a fish of which I have never been truly fond anyway."

"I detest turbot," said Frederica, laughing. "All those bones!"

"Then I have no doubt that domestic peace shall reign in our household," said Alverstoke, and the smile he gave her was the most unguarded she had ever seen. It was warm, intimate, and she'd never imagined that she might meet someone who wanted her just for herself, but it was clear that's what she'd found. She thought of how closed off, how cold and hard he'd once seemed, and realised that, while Alverstoke didn't need her managing, her love was a gift she could keep giving him. She thought, perhaps, that domestic peace might just be the start of the happiness in their household.

>>>>

"My dear, I am afraid that I am going to have to assert my husbandly authority," said Alverstoke. Frederica looked up from checking her list, confused. What could there possibly be in her packing for their return to London to occasion his husbandly authority, especially after just strolling into her bedroom. Then she saw his gaze, levelled at her orange-blossom crape dress where it was spread out on the bed.

"Really, Alverstoke?" she asked, keeping her innocently confused expression firmly in place. "What has caused this outbreak of domestic tyranny?"

"I find I cannot countenance orange-blossom," he said. "Indeed, I forbid you to wear that dress again, and, in fact, to ever buy anything similar again."

Frederica held the dress up against her and turned to look in her glass. "But, Vernon," she said, "it is so very appropriate, and scarcely worn. It would be a waste to get rid of it."

Alverstoke turned her around, took the gown firmly from her hands and flung it on the floor. As he then pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard, her falsely indignant complaint died on her lips. Instead, she kissed him back, looping her arms around his neck and pressing against him. 

"No, Frederica," he said, as he released her for breath at last, "it is not a 'waste' to get rid of it." He looked down at her, attempting to remain grave, and added, "And I expect immediate obedience from my wife!"

"Yes, my dear," said Frederica, meekly lowering her head, but spoiling the effect by glancing up at him and licking her lower lip. "Consider me duly chastised."

Vernon laughed and gave her a quick smack on the bottom. "I'll show you chastisement," he said.

"Oh, no, really, Vernon, I have quite learned my lesson," Frederica said, trying to keep a tremor of laughter from her voice. "I quake, indeed I do, in the face of your formidable and high-handed pronouncements."

Vernon didn't laugh this time, instead catching her close once more and kissing her again. His hands grasped her hips and held her flush against him, and she gasped. It was so easy to let go of decorum and feel the desire building between them. Her nipples hardened as one hand wandered up her side and slid over her breast, thumb stroking back and forth over the hard peak. She slid one of her hands down his shirt front, across the front of his breeches, not hesitating to stroke him, make him harder, and enjoy the way he groaned into their kiss.

Marriage had been a revelation, and the pleasures of the marriage bed not the least of them. Frederica loved the way Vernon wanted her, and his desire encouraged her own. She felt free and luxurious in his arms. She certainly hadn't intended to spend her afternoon in dalliance with her husband, but since the opportunity was presenting itself, it would be a shame not to enjoy what was offered.

"Did you lock the door?" she asked, pulling back just enough to get the words out. A muffled curse into her neck was the answer. She pushed away from him and crossed to the door herself, locking it firmly. Alverstoke drew her back to the bed and kissed her again. It started softly, and Frederica melted into the warmth and security of his arms. 

Alverstoke moved swiftly, spinning her around and tipping her over to land in an undignified, face-down sprawl on the bed. She gasped in shock, then laughed, as he ran his hands up under her skirt and flipped it up, letting his fingers rest on her bare bottom.

"I feel I must deliver myself of a high-handed pronouncement," he said. His hand came down sharply on her skin, and she moaned softly at the sensation. He'd introduced her to this before, and she'd come to love the sharp sting, followed by spreading warmth. She wriggled her legs wider and angled her shoulders to get her head up a little.

"Oh, no, I swear I am truly repentant already," she said, still laughing a little, though it turned into a moan as his hand came down again and again. When his fingers finally slid around to touch her more intimately, she was already wet and trembling, and cried out at the slow drag of his thumb over her most sensitive skin. She loved to give herself up to these moments, and felt only lust and desire as she gasped out a begging plea for him to hurry.

He was so hard inside her, and it felt good to have him pressed against her back, one hand squeezing right on the handprints he'd left on her, the other still stroking gently, working her higher.

"Frederica, you wicked, undutiful creature," he gasped, and she moaned. She didn't care if she was wicked, she just wanted more of this pleasure. Alverstoke must have guessed, because his touch on her skin firmed, and he drove into her body steadily, sending her over the edge before swiftly following himself.

They lay panting on the quilt for long moments before Frederica propped herself up on her elbows and considered their dishevelled state ruefully.

"I did not imagine it was possible for married life to come with more disorder and noise," Frederica started to say, when a commotion kicked off in the garden outside. Despite the distance, Lufra's loud barking and impassioned shouting from both Felix and Jessamy was clearly audible. She stopped abruptly. It seemed that married life, no matter now happy, was not destined to be characterised by peace.

"Yes, clearly I am the source of all chaos in your life," Alverstoke said dryly, though his eyes clearly showed his amusement at the situation. "And I must say that I only came in here to ask you if you wished for tea, when you clearly provoked me with that wretched dress."

The noise outside faded away, as either the combatants solved their problem or realised the imprudence of arguing so close to the house. Frederica ignored the creases in her dress and wriggled closer, leaning in to kiss Vernon on the lips. 

"I would dearly love some tea," she said. "And I had already mentally consigned that dress to the fire - nothing would induce me to wear orange-blossom again!"

Alverstoke kissed her again, and squeezed the part of her bottom still exposed by her upended petticoats.

"Good," he said. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, retrieving another for his own use, then helped her restore her dress to its proper proportions. "Does this mean you will now patronise Madame Franchot and her fine establishment, even at the risk of being taken for a high flyer?" he asked, as he fastened his breeches again.

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Frederica. "I couldn't tell you before, for fear of disturbing that masculine fragility of ego, but being able to buy several of Madame Franchot's most expensive dresses was a deciding factor in accepting your offer."

"Since I know you have a complete lack of the delicate modesty proper in gentlewoman, I should point out that part of the expense of Madame Franchot's creations comes from access to a number of discreet rooms maintained for the use of her clients," said Vernon. "Though I sincerely hope that, should you avail yourself of these rooms, it will be with no one more scandalous than your husband!"

"My husband is entirely sunk below reproach," agreed Frederica. "I find I am entirely happy with it."

"Then I shall ring for some tea, and we shall hope that domestic peace shall reign for a little longer."


End file.
